


Narry Collection

by abderian



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-11
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2017-12-29 02:26:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/999768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abderian/pseuds/abderian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a series of Narry Drabbles and Oneshots I have written through time. Rather than posting them individually I'm keeping them together as they are on the shorter side, ranging from a couple hundred words to a couple thousand.</p><p>Each piece is stand alone, however there are some themes that are common among them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Into The Night

_“Do you love me?”_

He didn’t reply, at least not immediately. The smoggy air hang heavy around our head, yet somehow we were removed from the setting, the moonlight cutting through the fluorescent glow to kiss his blond hair in a silvery light.

_“What difference does it make?”_

I sighed, but I said nothing, just leaning back against the warm bricks, the distant noise of the city, the cars racing and the people screaming, nothing but a backing track to our moment. To me, love made all the difference, but to him – it was nothing but a word.

I wondered how much longer he would stay, perched on the silver ladder, head upturned. He was like a cat, his body lithe, small yet strong, his eyes, usually a crystalline blue, were now a murky green, hooded as he looked to the heavens peacefully.

I wanted to beg him, to keep him with me, but I knew it wouldn’t work. He ran from commitment and if he saw my longing, he would take off, hiding with the shadows until he could stay away no more.

He was independent, fiercely so. His face was proud, his jawline strong as he viewed the world with a disdainful gaze that came from being so above the rest. Yet he yearned for love, craved it, craved company and another human’s touch. To be made to feel wanted and loved.

That’s why it was so hard, to have him pulling me in both directions, for him to turn up one night, to pull me into his arms and just stay there, perfectly content to curl together in perfect rhythm. And then he would be gone, like a cat that already has their food.

He shifted and immediately my eyes were drawn to him, as he stretched out his limbs, smiling down at me, all his teeth showing and his eyes fiery with passion for life. He would never be content to stop moving, he lived for adventure, not for comfort and compassion. And he would never say he loved me, because to admit it to himself would be like chains to hold him here, and prevent him from leaving each time.

Lips brushed against my forehead, and he scaled down the fire escape, sneaked feet hitting the ground. I watched him, as he looked up at me once more, lips moving in unspoken words and blond hair fluttering in the night breeze.

And then he was gone, slinking away into the night, the shadows consuming his every step. And I watched him go, hand held out in some silly desire to keep him near, yet knowing that he would be back, I just didn’t know when.


	2. Russian Roulette

Embers glowed upon finger tips as the calloused skin brushed across my cheeks, tears stirring beneath the shuttering eyelids. I could feel the harsh cold biting of the gun against my temple. I could hear the whirling of the mechanism, the cold dread stealing across the room as Niall’s finger hesitated on the trigger.

_“Calm yourself.” He says to me._

My hands were still tight around his arm, his face so close that our breaths mingled. Slowly my eyes opened and all I could see was him, his blue eyes searching, darting, waiting. There was no other option, this was it. Our lips met, but the gun did not fall.

_And you can see my heart beating._

The blood rushed to my lips, my head spun from lack of oxygen, but I didn’t pull away, I couldn’t. Every movement bought us closer, our bodies pressed tight and the musky smell of sweat lingering in the air. Desperation clung to our minds and the silent tick of the clock taunted, counting down til when we were no more.

_Then I get a scary thought, that his here means his never lost._

Niall gasps in pain as my finger nails dig in, our heads dipping as our foreheads rest. My eyes are closed one more, but I feel the tiny twitches, and I wonder if my luck has run out. How can I hope to compete with him, how can I hope to survive. Images flash around me, and I try to stop the tears as they fall, as I remember his shining eyes and his never ending giggle, and try not to focus on the time of my death.

_So many won’t get the chance to say goodbye._

I can feel his warmth, and I know he is here, but I am alone. Nobody will look for me, and nobody will notice. How can they notice, I never told them, fear was what cut me off and love was what killed me. No will kill me, I’m not dead, not yet. Maybe someone will have sympathy, maybe the barrel is empty and the trigger will pull harmlessly. Maybe, but not. To many times have already past, and I didn’t want to feel the gun once more in my hands, trembling as I placed it to Niall’s head. I didn’t want his blood painting the ground. I wanted there to be a bullet. I need their to be a bullet.

_But it’s too late to think of the value of my life._

Niall is sobbing, I can hear his rattling breaths and the gun swaying slighting in his grasp. He has done the maths, he knows and he wished he didn’t. My hand slowly closed around his, holding it steady, pushing the gun against my temple, a sad grin on my face, and nothing but wretched acceptance. He knows, and I just mouth the words. He knows I love him. He knows its over. He knew it was coming from the moment we first kissed.

Inevitable.

             Burning passion.

                           Love never lasts.

The end.

_So just pull the trigger._


	3. Burn

Soft and warm, the fingers twirled together, a fragile chain of flesh and bone, so easy forced apart. As his green eyes bore into the never ending blue, Harry felt his grip tightening, so desperately fighting to hold onto the treasure in his palm. Yet the image was never secure, always flickering like a candle in the storm.

He already knows, he can tell from the shadow, the one that dances across the depth of the boys soul, the way his eye shift from side to side, always looking but never seeing. He already knows that the time is ticking, ever fading, ever nearing, always moving and never stopping.

Their feet do a quick two step on the pavement, one step forward, two steps back, until they stumble and fall, the air rushing to lower the two bodies.

His body hit the pavement and he is cold and empty. His hand lays empty, clutching uselessly at nothing, still feeling the ghost of what should be there. But he is like sand, trickling so softly, that you can feel it everywhere, the gentle caress against the mind that no matter how hard you try you can never cleanse. But when he tries to hold on, to keep him near, he always slips away leaving nothing but a broken chain.

His laughter still echoes, haunting Harry’s dreams, taunting him for he can never have him while he wants him so. The boy forever dances just out of sight, his very presence intoxicatingly calling for him to follow.

And Harry would follow, stumbling blindly into the maze, feeling the thick greenery run under his fingers, bare feet plodding against the soft grass. And the soft melodic giggle, the sirens call, would slowly turn mocking, and the grass to dirt. Beneath his fingers that leaves would wilt and the air would turn acidic, biting at his skin and burning at his lips.

His flesh slowly dying and tears slipping down his rotten face, Harry curled up, desperate to forget, wishing to no more than to cut his heart out and cast it into the depths of the volcano, where it could burn hard and fast and die. He wanted no small flames, constantly licking at his love, leaving searing marks, scarring him forever. He wanted it to end.

Because he knew, he knew that Niall would never stay, that the boy was one that lived life too fast, too vicariously, and with little care. He was a firefly, lighting up the night sky, but disappearing with the morning sun and leaving bodies in his wake as the cold of winter set in.


	4. Linger

Grey and like vapour, your hand stretches to me, your lips pale and bloodless, mouth the words, “Join me.” It would be so easy to step forward, to embrace you and feel your body almost as though it was corporeal one last time. But I know you are just an illusion, and if I follow you, the brush of the veil caressing my skin, I would regret it.

Your eyes were the deciding factor. They were once so blue and full of life. Blue, it means so much as a colour; it’s an enigma rather like you were. It pulls you in so seemingly bright, enticing, the clearest blue sky reflected upon a peaceful lake. But as soon as you were close, the blue would change, fighting, pushing, all that stood near. The tempest and lashing rain that destroy the serenity.

Blue, its midway between black and white, it’s just as you are now. Grey. There is no light, no dark, all emotion has been leached and although your body and words beg for me to stay, I know you don’t mean it, because your eyes are dead.

It’s just you and me, everyone else has left. They had the courage to do as I must do, to turn their back and remember you as you once were. To hold onto a broken dream and try to follow where I will fall, there is so much more to life.

“I’m sorry.” I murmur as I turn my back to your grave, the wind slowly picking up, tangling through the curls of my hair, drifting across the cemetery to carry you away forever, like dust crumbing in the breeze. But as it lifts you up and carries you, it gives you your voice, and you call to my heart.

“I love you.”

I collapse to my knees, hands trembling as I fight the resolve to just let the wind claim me, to turn my face to the sky, to the falling rain and just stop moving and you kiss me one more time and I fall into a slumber.

It’s not what you would have wanted, you beg and you plead now out of fear, fear to take that next step alone while I continue to step forward on the well-trodden path, too far away to hold you and comfort you. How can I say you will be okay without me when all I can think about is how I will struggle?

We both have to continue, walking two paths to the same destination and one day we will meet once more. And you can be my guide in your strange world and I can tell tales of all that you missed, whilst you pretend you did not guard me at every turn.

I stand on shaky legs and I fight as I take each step forward, the chains that bind me to your being strong and inflexible. I have made my decision to be strong, but strength is often riddled with weakness and often I just want to stop fighting and allow those chains to consume me.

But what hope is there in giving up, what joy is there in being with you if I don’t have a life’s worth of experience to share. You were stolen from me to quickly and I refuse to join you until I have enjoyed what you lost, because I know you would prefer to live through me, rather than to cease to exist entirely.

Each trudging step through the winter snow is draining and sometimes I wonder whether I will ever be warm again. But as minutes, hours, days, years past, the chains loosened and eventually fell away as the snow melted, and for once I could look to where I had been, without the pain in my heart to simply reach out and join you.

My fingers trail over the flowers, simple and bright, your favourite I remember with a small smile. But this is a time of new growth and I do not let the memory bring pain and sorrow, I let it bring nostalgia and happiness that I could hold that memories in the palm of my hand.

The sun grows warmer and I let it envelope me, and I carry your picture in the locket around my neck. Occasionally I return to your grave and I whisper about my day and as I turn the wind reaches out to touch my arm, and in my ear it whispers, “Thank you.”

My skin was so smooth and soft when I stood there last, but this time as I walk away, it is worn and wearied as yours never will, and my back aches as I step over the chains which once trapped my heart and mind.

Twilight falls and the leaves turn gold, floating toward the ground, spinning slowly as you make them dance, the wind weaving the patterns of nature’s art. My steps are feeble but they have a purpose, and for once the longing I had so long suppressed becomes overwhelming.

The mirror stands between two tall oaks, their mottles branches embracing the glass, and I look upon my decrepit old age, my white curls and green eyes that have seen, that have cried, my body stooped and sad.

And then the image shifts and you are before me, the sunlight hitting your golden hair, blue eyes so warm and your skin so young, completely stolen from time. There is no more waiting, our paths have met once more.

Your hand stretches from the glass and this time I take it, welcoming the reprieve from this old body, and the veil removes all blemishes and I fall into your arms. I had waited so long and endured so much, but this moment here, your warmth, your smell, just you, being so close to me once more, guiding me through the hazy maze, I knew that I had made the right choice, all those years ago, in waiting to join you.


	5. The Journey

I run my fingers through your curls, butterflies fluttering within my stomach as you blink your green eyes contentedly. Your hand grasps mine, pulling me closer, your breath tickling my neck as you simply breathe, lost in the moment. But as we lay side by side, the love between us is a tangible chain, and we know we have reached out destination even if the journey was not easy.

xXx

Glances - that was how it started, the small bud of friendship blossoming into a flower. Yet neither of us knew, so we remained silent as the keys turned in the ignition, unaware that the journey had started.

But we sat stationary in the driveway, unable to move until someone put the car in drive. And I was much too timid, so I sat in the passenger’s seat waiting for you to act.

And for the longest time it was silent with no movement, except blue eyes meeting green, both waiting for the other to act on the spark. Perhaps nothing would have happened, who knows, if they hadn’t interfered.

A ghost hand slipped out from the backseat, and turned off the handbrake, the car slowly rolling, though it was the passengers, the one relying on us reaching our destination that gave us our start.

The first few roads were narrow, occasionally dropping away to a cliff face on the side. But now it was different, you were full of confidence, blind to potential dangers… no not blind but determined that we would avoid them. So your soft murmuring and gentle touch set my mind at ease as the road opened up and became a clear highway.

This was the easiest part, for the road was straight, yet the air conditioner faltered and the heat in the car began to rise as we pulled to the side.

The passengers were gone, dropped off, for this was no longer their journey, so we were alone, and it was at that moment, my mind scrambled by the heat that I gave in and stopped resisting.

I unbuckled my seatbelt, no longer afraid of the crash, utmost trust in you to keep my safe as I climbed over, straddling your lap, fingers running down your cheek and tracing your lips.

I knew you wanted it, just as bad as I did, for this was the hottest part of the journey as the midday sun beat through the wind shield.

You parted your lips, sighing as I leaned in, initiating the kiss, bodies pressed together in the front seat.

It was obvious you wanted more as you bit on my lip playfully, your fingers already playing with the hem of my shirt. And who was I to question you, my own desire surging forth, as I submitted, allowing you to remove my shirt, your long fingers tracing my bear chest, tips pressing against my hips, sending shudders up my spine. I wanted you and you smirked because you could see my need.

But I was not willing to let you win as I pushed my body closer, my hand slipping into your pants, but doing nothing but waiting, teasing, watching as you became more anxious, your kisses along my collar bone becoming more desperate.

Somehow we ended up in the backseat, our naked bodies pressed together, the journey forgotten as the sun reached its peak. My legs wrapped around your waist, arms around your neck, blue eyes looking into your green eyes, saying I was ready. And then you thrust, pure agony followed by ecstasy. And I needed more, my heart racing, my voice ripped from my lips as I begged and you complied, again and again, my nails running along your back leaving long red scratched and I moaned and bucked my body beyond its own control.

And there was a deep burning in my regions, growing stronger with every touch and whispered word. And then I was blinded, both of us collapsing onto each other exhausted but satisfied. You gave me a timid kiss, as though shy over what happened, before scrambling back into the driver’s seat, pulling on your clothes, as I joined you in the front, storm clouds starting to drift over the sky.

I didn’t bother to fasten my seatbelt, I trusted you inexplicitly. I had a belief that you would follow the road and never hurt me, I didn’t count on you getting distracted.

But you did, for a second your attention wandered, and before you could look back the car was out of control, and despite efforts to right your wrong, you were too late and we crashed.

When my eyes finally opened, I knew I was broken, because you had hurt me when you destroyed my trust in you. And we stood together, the car long broken, looking at a crossroads.

And you started down the left path, and I watched you go, resolutely refusing to follow. And once you disappeared, I walked down the right, completely unaware of where I was going, the destination where we were travelling to no longer clear.

Each step was hard, the distance behind me long, the journey ahead even longer without you by my side. And I wondered what obstacles your road was presenting, and whether I should have forgiven you for being distracted, as you had tried to avoid the crash.

But it was too late now, you were long gone, and my heart began to ache as I realised I may never see you again.

But then the trees cleared and the two forks of the road became one once more, and I found myself standing face to face with you, and the look in your eyes, seeking forgiveness and full of remorse, I gave in, flinging myself in your arms, and we knew that our relationship was strong enough to survive, and once again our destination was clear, the signs pointing us just over the hill.

And we preserved, climbing the final slope together, hand in hand, our bond strong as we refused to be buffeted down, as winds and rain hit us, a frenzy of external forces trying to force us apart, by we were protected, the end so close, that every step bought relief.

Together we reached out and opened the doors, stepping into the house.

xXx

I run my fingers through your curls, butterflies fluttering within my stomach as you blink your green eyes contentedly. Your hand grasps mine, pulling me closer, your breath tickling my neck as you simply breathe, lost in the moment. But as we lay side by side, the love between us is a tangible chain, and we know we have reached out destination even if the journey was not easy.


	6. Water

Peaceful, that’s how I feel as I turn my head to the soft raindrops, allowing them to slip over my face like the tears I could no longer cry. Its right here, sitting in the middle of the storm, that I remind myself that if you really love someone you will let them go. And I love you.

I know what people would think, here I am resting on the edge of the bridge, one leg dangling over the water, the other pulled to my chest and my back pressed to the metal barrier. But no depression or wish to end my life drove me here, no I came here to think, because in the middle of the tempest, the headlights over the hills, the roar of the river, I feel the most together, because I am reminded there are things out there more turbulent that unrequited love.

But that’s not all; my eyes gaze upon the rise and fall of the river as the wind ripples across its surface. The water is you, you are the water, and when I sit here there is a momentarily lull where I can picture a future of you and me, with no one else in the way.

I can see you now, laying your head against my collarbone, peering up between your lashes, mouth pink and round, asking me how you are like water. And I would pull you close and kiss your forehead and just whisper in your ear.

You are like water because of your eyes. The blue that changes, the deepest sea, the shallowest stream, the raging river and the tranquil lake. Blue and occasionally dashed with a golden green, trembling as you allow your emotions to consumer you and the water cycle pushes on as the water falls from your eyes. Because water is beautiful, the source of all life, just like you are the fuel for the fire in my heart.

But its more than this, I would never dare say it, because it’s the secrets that the wind whispers on a crisp Autumn day. Your eyes are only the beginning, because when I say you are water, I mean it, you, your whole being, is like the water.

So calm and caring, the gentle hug of the shower or bath, you listen to all problems, with a warm and comforting embrace, the whisper of the steam letting me know I will be okay. You are a private sanctuary, where I am naked, exposed and yet you do not flinch as you see my soul, rather you just clean it, but you don’t look far enough to see the want and the need that consumes me.

The snow and ice of winter, freezing everyone out and not letting them close, because you don’t want them to see what is hidden. We all know your fears, same as we know the snow comes with Winter, but as I held out my flame to thaw you out, it flickered and died, because my fire was not strong enough. I stood back shivering, watching as he stepped forward, his torch alight with life and he burned his way through a freed you, and from that point I knew that I never stood a chance.

The puddle that is left over from a rainstorm, the remnant of the tears and that is determined to survive until at least one child has jumped into them with a smile on their face. Everyone has to be happy, it’s your biggest flaw and your greatest strength, that nothing is more important to you than us, and you will wait through the fights and the sadness to bring us out the other side with a smile on your face.

You are the ocean, stretching from coast to coast to bring all the lands together. You can’t deny this, you know everyone everywhere, you aren’t content with falling into silence, with being unknown, so you find yourself wandering the coast of every island, a smile on your face, hand outstretched until someone finds you and you find another friend.

Rain sinking into the soil and bringing everything to life, you are the life. How can I explain to you that we are the flowers and you are the water and the sun that we need to survive, but you favour one over the others so that flower grows into a tall tree, one that stretches out over the rest of us, protecting us from harm, but only because he has you to support him when he needs protecting.

You are even the hurricane, the cyclone, the typhoon. You act so calm and peaceful and yet I know that you reach a point and you snap, and unleash your anger. And you have the worst temper, your face red and annoyed, eyes flashing like the lightning flashes across the skies, and the items picked up and flung around the room, shattering and falling, just like the wind flattens the land, you flatten your apartment.

I hear the sound of tyres screeching against the slick road, and I look up, curls stuck to my forehead as you open the door and step out. I should have known that you would find me, you always do.

“Harry, what are you doing mate, Louis said you went on a walk to clear your mind hours ago.”

You step over the barrier and sink to sit beside me, arms reaching out to warm my shivering form.

“I just wanted some time to think, I guess I was nervous about tomorrow.” It’s not really a lie, because tomorrow is the reason I was driven here, to just be alone with the water one last time.

You laugh and it sends shivers up my spine, and I rest my head on your shoulder.

“Why should you be nervous mate, you’re the best man, its Liam and I that are actually getting married. Come on let’s get you out of the rain.”

You pull me up and drag me to the car, and exhausted I fall asleep under your watchful eye, the way that I fall asleep to the lullaby of the rain.

I watch you from my seat, eyes gleaming with joy as he takes your hand and you repeat your vow. The smile crosses my face as I stand clapping as you kiss and the ceremony is official, you are happy and I am happy, and one day I know you will lead me to someone just like you who will love me as you love him.

You are the river, forever running away from me, but I am no longer chasing you, I am content just to see where the flow takes me because I know I will never catch up.


	7. Blackness

I watched my heart heavy as he took your hand, running his thumb over your skin, his eyes soft and caring. You looked back, your blue eyes shining so full of love that I feel myself falling. But you didn’t even know the blackness that painted my heart, the way that the tears welled at my eyes, wanting what I could never have.

At night I would hug my pillow, pretending that it was you in my arms, your soft blond hair tickling my neck as I felt your heartbeat, a tiny drum thrumming in a beat that spelled out that your heart was mine. But the pillow was lifeless, it had no blood, it could never flush the way you did as you looked to the ground, and instead of feeling whole and complete, I just felt empty and bleak.

Every night, the same dream, my eyes would flutter shut, and I would find myself lost, wandering alone in an ever expanding vast black, always hearing your voice, calling me, but I never knew where you were. I could find no path, the blackness dipping away to bottomless holes, you were always so close but I could never reach you.

And finally your voice would call to me no more, and I knew it was because you were gone, you were unobtainable, and I would sink to the ground, tears slipping from my eyes, as the very blackness extended its cold uncomforting touch, cold steel dipping into my body, leaving physical manifestations of my mental state, the blood slowly dripping from my body, each drop stealing away the warmth of my heart, bleeding out unrequited love.

I would always wake as the sun would rise, the rays hitting the land, paining it in an incandescent gold, much the way your smile would light up a room and leave everyone in awe of your beauty, so fresh and young, so innocent, like the stained clouds and crisp breeze of nature’s early morning artwork.

Every morning I would fight the chains that tried so desperately to hold me in the bed, shackles in my own mind to prevent me seeing the both of you, so in love. And every morning I would win, but the weight would always follow me, a stone that I pulled around, slowly destroying my heart.

I felt the confused and worried eyes on me as I bid you all farewell, leaving the rehearsal’s behind, the two oldest worried about the youngest, but you didn’t even look up, your fingers carefully entwined in his, caught in your own private world where I didn’t belong.

Eighteen, I never realised how much that small number would mean, but it was a key, unlocking the world where I could become numb and forget temporarily how much I needed you, how much my heart ached with every minute I had to endure the pain of never being able to hold you like he does.

You don’t realise how warm alcohol is until you are cold. As it runs down your throat it causes you to shiver, the first taste cold, but it settles not in your stomach, but your heart, a small guard that fights of all of the emotions that seek to destroy you.

As I hold the glass, I feel the warm embrace, enticing me to drink more, as it holds me tight, wiping away my tears, promising that it will all be okay. And I believe. I would believe anything, simply to be able to be free.

Why do I have to feel this, why do I want you when I can’t have you. It is a cruel fate, the cruellest a man can face. And I must carry the burden in silence, a secret that surrounds me, my own impenetrable bubble that separates me from the world.

They cannot understand, their eyes have not been tainted, the can see the world clearly, me however you are my world, but someone else is your sun. Someone else is the person who brings you to life, who gives you warmth and protection.  And I am nothing but your moon, I offer you nothing, and all I will ever be is a reflection of him and you, shining bright before fading into the darkness that if your love.

I raise my hand and another glass is given, my speech already slurred, and my mind becoming foggy, but I can still remember you, so I lift it to my lips and take a sip, sinking into the bliss, allowing the false feelings to overcome me.

I stagger, feet not walking in a straight line, as I stumble through the snow, keys hanging loosely in my hands, their soft jangle like warning bells that go unheeded. You are nothing but a small point of hurt, hidden below the avalanche of illusion that everything is alright.

The moon cut through the swirling flakes, seen but soon forgotten as the clouds smothered it, hiding it from the earth below, trapping it in their icy fingers, slowly chocking the life out of it as the world was plunged into darkness, artificial light the only thing illuminating the night.

Everything was a blur, I had no concept of anything, my hands on the wheel, moving mechanically, taking the route home from memory without any active thinking. My mind was blank, I had succeeded in forgetting you, even if it was only temporary, but any solution such as that would never work. Temporary fixes only lead to more heartbreak.

I wish I could tell you how it happened, but I myself don’t know. I wasn’t in the moment, I couldn’t react, and suddenly I wasn’t in control. I was spinning, the scenery blending together until nothing. Nothing but blackness.

And when I see the light once more, it’s too late. I was finally free, the chains no longer held me to the earth, but that’s because I no longer existed. I could see myself, slumped forward, blood staining my curly hair, skin pale, chest unmoving. And I could see the broken heart, the heart that no longer beat, that didn’t even care that it had died, because it had meant that it could no longer feel the pain of being without you.

I almost stayed, waited around to see you one more time, to see your blue eyes fill with tears, as you grasped your blond hair in anguish, before he grabbed you and told you it would be okay, his own tears staining his cheeks.

But I didn’t. I couldn’t bear it, now that I was free, I was leaving before you could catch me and keep me trapped here, simply so I could be in your presence. You were like a magnet and if I saw you again I would never leave.

I could hear the sound of sirens, and I looked once more at my broken body, knowing that within moments the world would know that Harry Styles was dead. But I turned my back, and walked for once toward light, my only regret that you will never hear this story.


	8. For Every Action

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zianourry with emphasis on Niam and Narry

The words rolled around his tongue like the bitter burning taste of alcohol. His eyes were lit and face flushed as he quipped flippantly toward the other man. The insults filled the air, not necessarily in a cutting manner, as though he lashed out to wound. Rather they floated around taunting with a hidden humour, waiting to see how far was too far.

Blinking his blue eyes, Niall tilted his head, the soft glow of the pulsing club reflecting off his hair like a golden aura, and his eyes narrowed with the fire of joy and success. He could see the tension in the bigger man’s arms, the subtle shaking on the hand that was clenching the murky brown bottle, liquid sloshing inside from the slight movement.

The thing was the man had done no more that existing, but it was an experiment, because Niall was curious how far one would suspend his disbelief when it came to the innocent that he was. So he had combed the club, leaving the others behind, so lost in their conversation that they didn’t see him slink away. That was how he wanted it, so the guilt would multiply by the time he returned, crocodile tears slipping down his face.

He took a sip of his drink, leaning forward, almost slumped across the old oak bench top, but his head remained upward, eyes never leaving their target. Tongue peeked out from between his soft pink lips, slowly moistening them before a smile stretched across his face. Every tooth glinted, malicious and ready to strike, like a snake lying in waiting. But people didn’t see that, they just heard the silent but infectious laugh behind it.

It was although the club was silent waiting with baited breath as Niall leant in, and allowed the most foul things to tumble from his mouth, his voice barely above a whisper as it drove right to the man’s heart. But in truth the club never stopped, it remained ignorant to his little game, barely even blinking as the man slammed his drink down and pushed back knocking the stool to the floor.

Niall tensed as he heard the clatter of the chair, the harsh breathing of a man pushed past breaking point, an even as his heart beat and his feet took an uneasy step back, he still smiled.  _Hook, line and sinker_.

Time had slowed down, slow enough that Niall could let his eyes focus on the first that was flying toward him, its deceptively gentle whistles as it cut through the air, and wait for the resounding crack as it made contact. He could do little more but sidestep, and take the blow across his cheek.

The force sent him stumbling, his glass slipping and smashing against the ground, where Niall would have followed if he hadn’t managed to hold tight to the old wooden bar.

Liquid slipped over his lip, the taste of iron ringing across his mouth as he gently smeared the blood on his fingers. It glowed bright red in the dull grim lighting, and Niall had to force himself not to burst out laughing, trying to contain his elation as he shook, the man mistaking it for pain or tears.

But with a bloodstained smile, and a glint to his eyes, Niall was gone and the man was left standing confusion clouding his mind.

Stumbling through the bodies who paid him no heed, Niall spotted them and carefully schooled his face. A small quiver of a lip, a possible tear to slip down his ruddy stained cheeks, shoulders caved in so as to appear meek and helpless. It was all a game to him, to see how far he could push and see how far he could go. A game of physics if you like, as for every action there is  _an equal and opposite reaction_.

His fingers twirled around themselves, and he didn’t look up when he heard their angered cries. He was pulled in tight to a chest, and from the ashen smell of cigarettes he knew it was Zayn. He could feel fingers that were nimble, yet stretching ever so slightly to pet his hair, and he knew it was Louis. But it was who he didn’t feel that made him smile, and he knew he had cast the perfect puppets.

They were so in tune, so desperate to protect that all reasoning and all morals left their bodies. He could hear their shouts, their eyes narrowing in on the man, as he flexed his hand, Niall’s blood still freckled across his knuckles and the broken glass crunching underfoot.

He waited his body trembling, Harry’s and Liam’s anger was tangible and suddenly the entire club was on edge as a fist flew, a knock to the temple, followed by a knee to the stomach, and the man fell his head knocking against his forgotten stool and he lay unconscious in the middle of the bar.

Niall could already hear the sounds of sirens in the distance, but they made no attempt to move, as though slowly coming to through a haze that Niall had cast. He knew and he had won, and he made no sound of repentance as he just sunk lower into Zayn and Louis arms.


	9. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But sleep is a curious thing, and dreams are powerful. They can show our deepest desires, and our ugliest nightmares. They can be clear, and they can be jumbled. But they are always trying to tell us something, we just have to listen.

 

He should have known that night, when he stared out of the window, the stars winking lazily against the ebony night sky, the breeze gently ruffling the leaves of the tree, as he leaned on the window sill, breathing in deeply and the fresh air settling against his face and invigorating him, that tonight was going to be special.

They had needed an escape, to just be away from the bustle of the city, and so they had ended up in Ireland, in a tiny mansion, owned by Simon, in the Irish countryside.

Niall found himself unconsciously reaching out, wanting to be at one with his home, wanting to feel the soft petals of the flowers in the meadows, and reach up and touch the stars, so clear against the sky, unlike how they appeared in the city, giving them a magical quality.

A grandfather clock echoed through the halls and Niall sighed, watching the clouds gathering and rolling in from the hillside, knowing that when he woke the clear skies would be cloudy and the fresh air would be damp, tiny droplets of water falling from above. And somehow he didn’t want this to end, he just wanted to continue to observe the serenity of the scene.

But as he counted the chimes, he knew that he must sleep, as time had flown away as he had stood by the window. Fingers hesitated on the handle, before Niall decided to leave it open, to allow the soft and sweet scent of the earth and plants and the incoming rain to permeate his room.

Lumbering to his bed, his steps were heavy, his eyes drooping and Niall knew he had been fighting the inevitable at the window and exhaustion was fast overcoming him. Slipping the sheets back, Niall scurried in, the fabric soft to the touch, the faintest smell of lavender wrapping around him and lulling him to sleep.

A yawn stretched from his pink lips, and his eyes fluttered shut, as Niall curled into a ball, the night seemingly done, and the rest of the night was to be spent asleep.

But sleep is a curious thing, and dreams are powerful. They can show our deepest desires, and our ugliest nightmares. They can be clear, and they can be jumbled. But they are always trying to tell us something, we just have to listen.

* * *

 

His eyes were closed, but his other senses were alive, fingers curling around the blades of grass, running down their wavy cuticles and feeling the dew drops upon them. He felt the heat of the sun, not harsh but warm, as it gently caressed his face, the breeze whispering in his ears for him to open his eyes and see.

And so he obeyed, and he found himself staring up, watching the clouds, white and fluffy, drift across the pale blue sky, with trees looming upwards, stretching to the heavens just in the edges of his vision.

He sat up, fingers curling around the grass, looking around in wonder, watching as the rays of the sun trickled from the canopy, sliding over the leaves like a waterfall of gold.

Pushed to his feet, Niall walked slowly eyes staring around at curiosity at the world, the small colourful butterflies dipping and diving, the soft tinkle of a nearby steam, the shifting of the undergrowth as the fawn of a red deer darted into the woods.

Fingers trailed over the tree trunks, feeling the rough bark underneath, each groove explored by his touch, wandering over the moss that clung to the wood.

He couldn’t explain it, the feeling that was overwhelming him, he felt so at peace, so calm, and yet at the same time so close to tears, he couldn’t explain the lump in his throat, the burn of his eyes, something was missing, the scene was perfect and yet it was incomplete and his heart yearned for that missing puzzle piece.

Niall leant down, knees settling in the crumbling dirt, picking up the pieces in wonder, turning them over, once, twice, thrice. All the puzzle pieces lay scattered across the floor, so he picked them up and pulled them close, before settling at the trunk of a tree, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

This was an edge piece, he set it down, slowly building the border and working inwards, this piece goes here, and that piece goes there. The pieces fit together, and the shape was formed, a heart, Niall’s heart, with a hole that prevented it from being whole.

Only one piece was needed to complete the puzzle, but Niall held two, one in his right hand and one in his left, and both pieces fit, but which one did he want to use to finish the jigsaw?

He stood in frustration, glaring at the offending circle, and then at the two pieces in his hand, why couldn’t one of them be the perfect fit and the other, slightly misshapen and not right. Why did both of them make him feel complete?

Turning away from the table, he left the unfinished puzzle, slipping the two pieces into his pocket, forever pondering, perhaps he would find that one inconsistency later.

Footsteps echoed down the halls, shoes hitting the stone floor, fire flickering from the wall torches, illuminating his path. Hands rested flat on the large oak door, Niall pushing, the scrape of wood against stone reaching his ears as the door opened to reveal the hall beyond, a grand stair case rising to the ceiling, a wide window, opaque with the designs of stained glass sending patterns across the room.

But he turned his back on this majesty, for up was not where he needed to go, rather out. The doors swung open, and the snow swirled around his face, the cold biting and hard, yet Niall was warm within his thick coat, looking up in wonder as the snowflakes drifted to the ground, each one unique and yet the same.

The settled on his hair, forming a delicate crown, for Niall was king in this domain, this was all his own creation. He stepped forward, the snow crunching under foot, and he followed the path, hidden and yet clear.

Silence rebounded around him, the quiet of winter enclosing, and yet his mind was full of music, the soft joy that told him he would find his way, he already knew the answer, he knew what piece, he just had to unveil the hidden truth.

Tiny ice crystals dangled from the trees, the pale winter sun reflecting off them, small lights that adorned each branch. A fork in the path, two possible roads, and Niall stood before them, looking left and looking right.

He was torn, which one to follow, which one would lead him to the truth and which one would lead him to a lie. One led to love and the other to heart break, and he had no guide to point out which one he should take.

But so many get lost on the road to love, and so Niall bit his lip, hoping and praying as he took that first step that he was journeying along the path less travelled, going where he needed to be.

And so Niall followed the path, the twists and the turns, his hand trailing along the hedge that rose around him, trying to find the centre of the maze.

One dead end, and then another, his heart thudded with fear, supposing he had taken a wrong turn and he was lost forever, never to find his way free from the towering green walls.

His hands slipped into his pockets and he pulled out the pieces, holding them up, inspecting them. But still the looked the same, not damaged not wrong, just right. He held them tight, enclosed in his palms, and Niall set off, determined to find his way home.

The maze opened and Niall stepped forward, free, escaping the taunting puzzle, slipping the pieces back into his pocket once again, having let them guide his way.

He walked around the edge of the lake, watching the tiny ripples in the water, picking up a stone and noting its smooth cool texture, flicking his wrist and watching as it skipped along, once, twice, thrice, leaving a tiny circle wherever it kissed the water.

Reaching out he found another stone, frowning as he felt its jagged edges, but still he threw it, watching eyebrows slanted as it fell with a splash into the water, creating small waves and breaking the peace.

He looked over all of the stones that lay on the bank, but he could not find one that held that same smoothness of the first, because that first was perfect, and no other could compare.

Dragonflies danced on the water, ducks hiding away in the reeds, the sky stained pink and orange as the sun began to set, as Niall stepped onto the wooden planks of the quaint bridge, watching the painting through the reflection of the water.

Unconsciously he pulled out the pieces once more, inspecting them in the dying light. And then he noticed it, the smallest difference, a tiny crack upon one of the pieces.

A crack that if he had chosen that piece, would grow until his entire heart shattered and he knew which piece he had to use. The piece that would complete him, that would never hurt him, but hold him tight and keep him warm. Protect him and love him. The piece that wouldn’t break his heart.

The grip loosened, and the broken piece fell into the water below, drifting in the current, settling at the bottom of the lake, nothing but a forgotten possibility.

He walked forward, through the archway, the light hugging him and drawing him in, and he was back in the castle, the table sitting where he had left it, a fireplace that had been cold before now blossoming with life.

Each step drew the table closer, the puzzle sitting unfinished, waiting to be complete. Niall turned the piece over in his hand, once, twice, thrice. It felt right, as though that single piece way the key to his everything.

His hand hovered over the jigsaw, hesitating, for to finish it was to take a leap that scared him, but he steeled his nerves and put the piece in.

A slow and steady beat filled the room, drums playing the rhythm as tiny tendrils of light appeared, dancing, twirling, prancing as they embraced Niall, kissing his cheeks, and ruffling his hair, warming him to the core.

 _“You know what you have to do, for this is a dream,”_ They whispered, _“but that does not it is not real, you just have to listen to your heart.”_

* * *

 

The gentle sounds of rain caused Niall to stir, glancing to the window to find his clear sky replaced by a grey morning. Yet despite the weather, internally he felt as though sunshine was shining, confidence surging through him, as he flung off his sheets.

Bare feet padded down the halls, arms pumping as he sprinted, blue eyes darting from side to side, trying to find him.

And then he was there, and Niall flew into him, embracing him tight, before taking a deep breath, and reaching up, kissing him gently on the lips, pulling back in fear of rejection.

The other just stood there, struck dumb, as he raised a hand to his tingling mouth, heart thudding at the conformation, the returning of his own secret feelings.

And as Niall turned run, Harry reached out, grasping his arm, and pulling him back, kissing him, and communicating without words that together they were complete, the missing puzzle piece found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just going through my old works on tumblr and adding a few that I missed to this collection


	10. Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We might not have had money, but our gang, as we liked to call ourselves, was tight, almost like family rather than friends. And when one of our own is hurt, others stupidly went looking for revenge. Of course I wish that was it, but the rich bastards couldn’t let the matter drop.

 

The switch blade felt heavy in my pocket as I ambled down the street, eyes flicking from side to side as my scuffed up converse kicked a pebble. Just cause I couldn’t see them didn’t mean they weren’t there. We had learned to be wary, the rich kids didn’t give a fuck about hurting us, and it seemed as though blond and small was like a beacon for abuse.

Not that I’d had too much trouble, nothing to warrant a trip to the emergency room at least. I can’t say the same about Liam.

A few weeks ago he was leaving his girlfriend’s house when they got him. Now Danielle is a good sort, middle class and damn hot, I mean I’m gay (not that anyone knows that) and I’ll happily turn straight for her. Turns out the rich bastards agreed.

Look we aren’t rich, none of our gang is. That’s what we call ourselves, our gang, really it’s just a group of close friends, but when you come from a busted up neighbourhood like ours friendships are what really defines whether you live long enough to get away from it all.

But back to the point, Liam had left Danielle’s house, and he realised he was being tailed. He tried to shake off his pursuers by cutting through the park. Liam is fast, he can sprint like no tomorrow, however a car is faster. They caught him as he came out the other side, only like a hundred metres from anyplace he would have been safe.

Zayn was the one who found him, he had been driving home when he saw Liam’s body. He refused to tell us how he felt, or just how bad Liam was, but he put him straight in the car and took him to the emergency room, which is saying something cause none of us have the money to pay any medical bills.

Anyway Liam is fine now, but that incident seemed to have started a war. Rumours are that Louis threatened a younger brother of one of the bastards involved, but whatever happened, it’s just gotten worse, and now none of us feel safe to walk around alone.

Which is what I was doing now. I guess I should finish explaining who our gang is, I mean I’ve basically said them all already. There is Liam, he lives with his mum, it’s just the two of them now, his older sisters  got hitched and got out of there the moment they turned eighteen. Across the road from him was Zayn. He lived with his mother and sisters, seems like fathers were a rare commodity in this neighbourhood. But anyway his mum is a drug addict, so Zayn dropped out of school and works shifts at the local petrol station to try and support his younger sisters.

Finally, Louis is a runaway, and kinda secretive about his old life, won’t tell us anything except that it was worse that the hell we were in now. Officially he doesn’t live anywhere, he just crashes at our houses; one day he will stay with Liam, other days with me, but never really with Zayn unless he is there to look after Zayn’s sisters. Louis is good with kids, sometimes it makes me wonder if he had sisters at home, because he is just so natural.

And lastly there is me, safely in the closest, cause god forbid I give the homophobic jerks another reason to cut me. I am more than capable of holding my own, I will punch anyone that threatens my family, even though its only my older brother and me now and of course my friends, but I can be honest with myself. I’m the smallest in the gang, and about as threatening as a penguin. Just don’t underestimate me.

Now that you know the basic stuff, we can get back to the story. Anyway I was looking around, and out of the corner of my eye I noticed a car trailing me. In this neighbourhood if there is a car trailing you generally they want to do one of two things, to mess you up real bad physically or mess you up real bad emotionally. Personally I wasn’t fussed on either. As it was I was limping along, though I was trying to hide it, any weakness is not good. I’d tripped on my way out of school, banging my knee into the corner of the lockers. I’d like to say I was pushed, but this time it was just clumsiness, nothing new.

I picked up my pace, the limp becoming more pronounced as I tried to get to the alley that I could cut through to get home, it came out just a block away from out front door and the car sure as hell couldn’t follow me through the tight corridor.

I could practically feel them getting closer and my hand jammed into my pocket, tightening around the blade, fingers trembling to flip it out.

The growl of the engine cut out and I heard the door open.

“Hey!” The voice rang around me and I spun around, flipping out the blade in the process, holding it in front of me with my mouth screwed up in some sort of feral growl, fear tinging my vision, the adrenaline pumping through my body, making me ready to lash out.

However, confusion set in when I heard that familiar laugh. My vision cleared and I saw Zayn standing in front of me, hands held up in a non-offensive way while Louis was practically wetting himself in the background. I was honestly surprised he was still upright (if you can call hunched over with an arm around his stomach upright) and not laying on the ground pounding his fist into the pavement.

Sighing I lowered my arms, becoming aware of just how tense my muscles were as my heart stopped trying to beat itself out of my chest.

“You should’ve seen… ready to wet yourself… so serious… and the blade… oh my god… Nialler with a blade!” Louis screeched out strings of words between his gasps of laughter, causing a rise of annoyance from within me.

“What did you expect you retard! You were fucking trailing me of course I was gonna be scared, you know what happened to Liam!” I exhaled through my nose, shoulders shaking with emotion.

“We thought you would have recognised the car Niall. We were just gonna offer you a lift home cause you were limping. Speaking of Liam, where is he?”

Zayn placed his hand on my shoulder, I guess to prevent a temper tantrum. It’s not my fault that I have a quick temper, and if Zayn wasn’t here to keep me calm I probably would have run at Louis… only to get my butt kick.

“Back at the school, something about talking to teachers, being the nerd that he is. Even if I did recognise the car, if I hadn’t been ready for attack you would have got up me and given me a lecture about how dangerous the rich bastards could be. I don’t even get why you two get to lecture me, you’re like only a few months older.”

Zayn shrugged, a smirk playing on his face, “But we are still older and taller, plus you are still at school, so we can treat you like a dog if we want to. But you’re a good boy Nialler, getting ready to attack the big mean bullies like that. Good boy, here have a treat.”

Zayn’s fingers ruffled my hair, and I pulled away in indignation, before a grin started to spread on my face.

“You’re right, you do owe me a treat, so I think you can buy me some food. Let’s go.”

Zayn groaned as I skipped over to the car, sprawling into the backseat, but he wasn’t going to get out of it. I promised myself I wouldn’t go too hard on him, I know he doesn’t get paid until tomorrow. I’ll only get like most of what I want.

Louis slipped into the passenger seat, arms folded around the head rest as he looked back at me sprawled over the seat. “And you realise that I am more than a year older than you right? Not a few months.”

“Of course I do, but that conversation was ages ago now, looks like you’re getting slow in your old age Tomlinson.”

* * *

 

I knew instantly that Greg was doing bills when I walked through the door. He was hunched over the paper, glasses pushed over his eyes (the magnified them massively, I used to tease him about them whenever he tried to read anything… suffice to say after being put into a headlock and noogied so hard that I lost a few brain cells I let the matter drop… well in front of Greg at least.)

“So are we able to live this month?” I asked, slumping down onto the couch as he looked up from the coffee table.

“I don’t know, but I think I might be able to manage. You see I’ve found this travelling circus that is eager for new acts and they are willing to take you off my hands for a hefty price. I tried to tell them they could have you for nothing, but who am I to turn down money.”

“Ha ha, I was asking seriously you know.”

“I know, and yeah I think we will manage, hell we might even have a little left over for once.”

I nodded, it was rare that was had all that much left after the bills and general expenses ripped us apart, so obviously it had been good this month, maybe Greg’s insistence that I didn’t leave every light on in the house actually worked.

It’s been just Greg and I for a few years now, my parents passed away in a car accident. It was hard at first, Greg didn’t know how to adjust between being a big brother to being a parent and it cause a few fights between us, but we are cool now.

I pushed myself up, running  a hand through my bleached hair, “Okay, well I’m going to take a shower and then  maybe do some homework. If Louis shows up can you tell him he can’t sleep here tonight because you are grieving the loss of your brother who died from an idiot induced heart attack.”

Greg just waved his hand, I’m not entirely sure that he heard me, and I knew that repeating myself would be useless.

Our house is tiny, a kitchen, lounge room, two bedrooms and a bathroom. The laundry was in with the kitchen, so you have to make sure you don’t accidently add washing detergent instead of sugar to whatever you’re cooking. I guess I can’t complain cause at least I get a room to myself, Zayn either shares with his sisters or sleeps on the couch if he wants to escape.

I locked the door to the bathroom behind me, the steam filling the room as I turned the shower on hot. I felt the hot droplets work magic against my skin as I stepped under the stream, loosing myself in the moment. It was so relaxing under that hot stream, I guess cause I could pretend I was anywhere, cause the water coming out of our crappy plumbing was the same water that fell on the pampered princesses from up north.

Of course it didn’t last long before Greg was banging down the door, screaming about not wasting the hot water, so I shut the shower off and stepped out.

* * *

 

School isn’t really my cup of tea. Actually it’s more like a cocktail for disaster, everyone is so judgemental, and they look for any reason to make your life hell. The actual work I didn’t mind, I guess I’m naturally smart, if it actually put in some effort I might even be near the top of the grade, but I’m happy doing just enough to get good enough marks.

This attitude annoys Liam though; he isn’t as smart as me but he tries a hell of a lot harder. Ironically we always end up with essentially the same grades. Oh and on top of study, Liam manages to be an athlete, both as a runner and a boxer, and be a member of to many extra-curricular activities than I care to remember. If any of us deserved to get out of this hell hole it was him, and I knew that the moment he graduated he would choose a university somewhere far away.

He had told me as much himself, even said that even though it would be hard to leave his mother, without him she might be able to have some luxuries, because the money could be focused only on herself. But he promised that once he was able to hold his own, he would pay her back for all her sacrifice.

Personally I hadn’t given much thought to university and stuff, but now we were in our final year of high school so I probably should start thinking about it, hell if I put in the effort now I might even be able to scab a scholarship, isn’t being piss poor generally like a pre-requisite for one of those?

“Hey Nialler!” Liam slid to a halt beside me, lopsided grin on his face that could only mean one thing.

He opened his mouth to speak, but I held up a hand, “Nope let me guess, about this tall, long curly hair, kick arse body, dancer.”

He nodded blushing, “Yeah I kinda wanted to tell you that I was just taking her out for a bite after school so you have to walk home again, sorry man.”

The thing about Liam is you can’t be mad at him, his puppy dog eyes are worse that well a puppy dog, so I found myself smiling, “Knock yourself out, it’s not like walking home alone will kill me, unless of course Zayn and Louis try to kidnap me again. I’m telling you Liam, last time they jumped out of the car wearing balaclavas and tried to lasso me, those two are not right in the head.”

Liam just rolled his eyes, “I swear to god Niall that story gets more elaborate every time you tell it, next thing you know you’ll be saying they hired a sniper to hit you with a poison dart.”

My eyes went wide and I rubbed my neck, “That explains so much, the dart must have held some memory suppressant because I don’t remember anything but the psychotic look in their eyes.”

Liam just laughed, “You’re crazy you know that right.” I just shrugged, while crossing my eyes and sticking my tongue out. “Oh well see you tonight Nialler, gotta go.”

As he walked off down the hall, I shouted after his retreating figure, “If you have sex I expect a tape of it in my mailbox tomorrow morning.” Suffice to say his response was to lift his hand above his head and give me the finger.

* * *

 

You know how earlier I said that walking home alone wouldn’t kill me. I probably should have given that thought a little more consideration. Personally I would like to blame Zayn and Louis, because I might have been a little more wary when I heard the car. But as I turned around I was confronted with a lovely new Mustang, not Zayn’s beaten old wreck.

My hand went from my pocket, which was empty and my mind was plagued by the image of my switch blade sitting under a pile of clothes in my room. Well shit, lot of good it’s gonna do there.

“Looky here, it’s the blond, you’re friends with Tomlinson right, and Malik. They weren’t too impressed after we went after the one with the hot girlfriend, so they went after my brother.” Rough fingers gripped my cheeks and pulled my face upward. I didn’t recognise him, but over his shoulder I did recognise some of the people from school.

And my stomach made a disappointed flop when my eyes fell on him.  _Harry Styles_. Its suffice to say I had been admiring him from a distance, closest gay remember, and let me tell you, his face was amazing, and he had this hair that fell in perfect curls, and these green eyes that were so expressive, plus he was smart and athletic, I was just completely in love with him, and I had never even spoken to him. Funny how these things work. But I guess the main guys didn’t like the fact that my attention had been diverted from him because he shook me roughly, causing my eyes to flick back to his brown ones.

“Do you know what they did to my brother? I bet you do, hell you were probably there to but you were just too cowardly to show your face. We had to take him to hospital when they were finished, he is sixteen, he isn’t involved in any of this shit, so look we have been waiting to catch one of you faggots alone so we can take our revenge.”

I guess it was the word faggot, but I felt the anger rise in my, and I was probably stupid in my actions, but I sure as hell don’t regret them.

“Yeah and Liam is eighteen, and had nothing to do with you yet you still decided to fucking beat him up for no reason just to get in his girlfriend’s pants. Well sorry to say it but you look like your face was put through a blended and glued back together, so there was never any chance.” And then I spat at him. Probably not the best move, because that’s all I remember before pain exploded in the back of my head and I felt the warm ooze of blood before I fainted.

* * *

 

Who knew getting beat around the head hurt this much, that was all I could think as I came too, followed shortly after by confusion over the fact that I couldn’t move my hands. My eyes flew open and I struggled, feeling the rope that bound me to the chair.

It didn’t take long for my eyes to fall on the only other person in the room.

“So you got babysitting duty did you?”

Harry sighed, not making eye contact, which was probably a good thing, I needed to sound tough and I can’t really do that if I’m swooning. Damn my head was hurting like a bitch.

“If that’s what you want to call it, I like to think of it as supervision before they beat the shit out of you.”

His voice was so deep and soothing, but almost reluctant. Interesting.

“You don’t want to do this do you?”

He looked up, green eyes full of fire. “The guy you sent to hospital was my cousin, so yeah I want revenge, just don’t think it should be you strapped to the chair.” He trailed off in a mumble.

I wanted to say more, but the door burst open, I think we were in some snooty garden shed cause I swear I saw the green grass as the bastard who knocked me out stormed in. And I didn’t get a chance to think much else before he smacked my jaw with his right hook.

I felt my jaw move as he connected, but thankfully there was no snap or pop to suggest it had dislocated or broken, however I managed to bit my lip and the metallic taste of blood coated my mouth. My head was simply pounding and I could head the thumb of my heart in my temples as my vision danced.

I spat the blood out, “What exactly do you hope to achieve with this?” I asked, staring at the ground. His fist sank into my stomach, and I exhaled, coughing roughly as I tried to get my breath back, but only able to take small gasps.

“I don’t give a fuck what I achieve, this is just to show you dirty cunts where you belong, and that’s in your slums below us, you don’t deserve what we have, and they have to learn that there are consequences if you ever touch one of us.”

“So, you… can… beat us… up? But… we can’t… touch you?” I managed to gasp out, glaring up at him, a sharp pain in my side causing me a little worry that the punch to my midsection had done a little more damage than winding me.

His fingers tangled in my hair and ripped my head back, “Basically.” He sank his fist into my ribs, hitting the centre of the pain, and walked out, leaving just me and Harry alone in the room.

I was trembling now, the pain in my side was so strong, it was this constant throbbing, almost as through there was a hot poker being jabbed into my skin and the taste of blood from my cut lip was starting to make my head spin.

“Harry, you don’t have to let him do this.”

That got his attention, I guess he didn’t realise that I recognised him, not that anyone pays any attention me anyway, I guess that’s something to be proud of, I always wanted to have a super power and I guess now that invisibility.

“You actually recognise me Niall? Shit…”

And there goes my invisibility. Poof. Not that I cared, Harry Styles knew who I was. My crush knew who was I was… was it messed up that I still had a crush on him seeing as he was part of this whole keeping me captive and beating me up for revenge thing?

He nervously rubbed his forehead, “We didn’t think you would recognise any of us, fuck this could be a problem.”

“I have a solution you know.”

He looked at me warily, green eyes flashing, but he nodded to hear me out, waiting as I once again spat blood onto the floor before speaking.

“Well I know who you are, and it probably wouldn’t take too much to work out who your cousin is, so the fact that I could rat on you so easily leaves you with very few options. Either you kill me, but I know you don’t want to do that, besides even though the police are completely corrupt, there is too much bad blood between your cousin and Louis and my blood in now all over this place and it probably wouldn’t take too much to trace it back to your guys. Or you could let me go now and this all ends, I don’t go to the police and I don’t let nobody come after you guys.”

Harry just looked at me, biting his lip nervously, considering his options, before turning his back and walking out and leaving me alone.

I guess the moment he left my façade fell away and I felt the tears burn in my eyes. The room was constantly coming in and out of focus and my throat was heaving from the natural reflex as my stomach tried to dispel itself but I couldn’t vomit, though I didn’t doubt that the moment I stood the room would sway and nausea would overcome me. If I had to diagnose myself (which you really shouldn’t do cause I’m not a doctor, but hey I was the only one around) I’d say I was looking at a concussion, a hell of a lot of bruising and possible cracked on broken ribs if I had to judge from the intense pain in my side. I was just thankful he hadn’t pulled a blade yet.

I don’t know how long I sat there, the only thing I could do was spit the blood out of my mouth, and now the bleeding had stopped, although I could feel it dried on my face, and it was unbearably itchy. I wondered if they others were worried, if they realised I’d been taken, or if they thought I’d just wandered off… I didn’t have the best track record of being where I should have been so they could be thinking I was just off being stupid.

The door creaked as it pushed open and Harry walked in, not looking up as he started to pull at the ropes, loosening them enough that I could pull my arms through.

“I managed to convince him that it wasn’t worth it, that you were hurt enough that you could take the message to your friends, and that you promised you wouldn’t pursue us.”

His hand closed around mine, so large that it actually made me feel tiny as he helped me to my feet. As expected I swayed and stumbled, but he grabbed me around my waist to hold me upright, his hand still around mine.

I don’t know why, but when I looked up through my eyelashes, he looked so magnificent that I couldn’t help myself, almost as though there was a magnetic force that drew us together. My lips pressed against his, the movement causing the blood to start to flow, as I kissed him, pulling closer.

But he didn’t react, freezing, and then I was flung to the ground.

“I am not a fucking faggot, what the fuck are you thinking.” There was so much hatred and disgust in his voice that I struggled to my feet and stumbled out the door, the pain of rejection out weighing all the psychical injuries. Maybe if I had looked back I would have seen Harry raise a shaking finger to his lips to wipe away the blood, fingers lingering on his lips as confusion flooded his eyes. I should have realised that my actions could have consequences that even I couldn’t foresee, but I never even apologised to him, I just left him, completely shaken by the action and questioning everything he knew.

* * *

 

Obviously the others reacted badly when I got back, Liam was full of guilt, blaming himself for making me walk home alone, while Louis and Zayn were just about in the car ready to go and kick their butts before I stopped them, it wasn’t worth it.

Years past and the animosity between us and them never really died down, but it was confined to hating glances and mutterings between friends. I wish I could say that I managed to escape the town, but I never did. I did get to go to university, for one year, and it was the best year of my life, I was amazed and how good life can be when you don’t live in such a shitty part of town.

Unforetunalty during the summer it seemed like some power decided I’d had all the fun I was allowed and acted to ensure that I would never be able to escape. It pained me so much to wipe the food that had spilt of Greg’s chin, his eyes watching me, but not comprehending what was happening.

It was just me and him, the others had all gone. Liam was still in University and his mother had followed him, moving into a tiny apartment not far from the university because she had already lost his sisters and didn’t want to lose him. Zayn’s mother had passed away from an overdose, turned out she had a little more money that she was willing to admit, just enough for Zayn and his sisters to move away and start over. And Louis enrolled in the army, but he always sent letters to keep us informed, he said he needed a way to escape and this was his best choice.

And me, I was stuck here, in our two bedroom house with my brother, who was so mentally disabled that he needed permanent care. I kissed him on the head as I heard the doorbell ring.

“Thanks for coming Liam.” I muttered tiredly as I opened the door and let my friend in. He just embraced me, knowing that this was a time when I needed a hug.

“It’s okay, I’m perfectly able to watch him while you attend the trial, I’m sure they’ll bring the bastard that did this to justice.”

I just nodded numbly, I didn’t know much about the incident, other than the fact that while Greg was working at the bar, he had cut of some patron, saying he had too much to drink. The other guy was obviously pissed so he took a bottle and bought it down over Greg’s head. If that wasn’t bad enough Greg smacked his head against the counter when he collapsed. There was a time when they didn’t think he would make, personally I think he would have been better off dead than stuck in the state he was in now.

There is something about sitting in a courtroom, the tension that was in the air was unbearable, and I felt ashamed as I felt people’s eyes comb over my ill-fitted second hand suit as I slipped into the front row. I wasn’t required to give any testimony, but I still wanted to be there to watch my brother’s attacker get what they deserved.

I wasn’t expecting to see the curly haired boy walk out, his head downturned. I was in shock, I refused to believe, not at any point. I refused to even look at him.

In some part of my mind I heard him as he pleaded guilty, and shock caused me to look up, meeting his green eyes, his expressive green eyes.

Sorrow, guilt, disgust, confusion, forgiveness, hatred… lust. He mouthed the word sorry, tears slipping down his face, and as my stomach dropped I knew. I knew beyond a reasonable doubt why he was drinking, why he needed that numbing sense of alcohol, because of me and my actions, I had opened a wound that had never healed, I had forced him to see who he was, and then there was no one to help him with the fall out. And somehow along the way, he had realised that he wished he hadn’t pushed me away, because no feeling had compared to my kiss.

As he walked away in chains, I realised all of this, but I felt nothing but hatred for what he had done to my brother, and for what he had done to me. I couldn’t even feel sorry. I stood and I walked out of the court room, ambling down the street, eyes flicking over the familiar sites, remembering the heavy feeling of the switchblade in my pocket, the one time that I didn’t have it, and how my actions in that one moment, had destroyed so many lifes.


	11. Meloncholia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The impending apocalypse throws the world into chaos, and causes persons to question what is really important to them. Because when you are going to lose everything, you seek those who hold your heart.

The world was cast in an orange haze, the dusty surface of the rogue planet dying the blue skies in warning of its impact. I lay in bed, fingers slowly twisting the silver ring of metal, tracing the worn engraving that promised love forever. I supposed today, or tomorrow, that was forever, because forever can’t exist when we are all gone.

I don’t even know how we will all die. Will it be like a giant earthquake? Will we die from asphyxiation from the changing atmosphere? Will we freeze to death cause we can’t see the sun anymore? Will the other planet even be my cause of death, because honestly taking another option, one that is quicker and less unsure was slowly becoming favourable in my mind.

The ring felt heavy and warm against my palm, longing for its other half and begging my heart to allow itself to bleed once more for the sake of not dying alone. The ring was him, a part of him that he entrusted to me before he left, nothing but a ghost with a kiss on the wind. I never really forgot and I never really moved on, but now, with the serenade of sirens on the horizon, I know that there is no one else I would rather spend my last days beside.

My fingers tangled in my curly hair as I sighed in frustration, knowing that my mind was made up. Bare feet hit the wooden floor boards as I shuffled to my wardrobe, looking for a coat to throw over my shirt, the chilly breeze outside whistling against the window. As I pulled on my favourite pair of boots, I allowed my eyes to wander, to fall upon this apartment that I knew I would never return to.

It’s funny how little the material possessions mean in the face of imminent doom, but as I looked around my home, I saw nothing that I wanted to bring with me other than the silver ring around my finger. It was the pictures that called to me, the images caught in time that were nothing but a reflection of the people I truly loved. My sister and my mother.

Suddenly I wanted nothing more than to hear their voice, to cry and hear my mother say I will always be her little boy no matter what, I wanted the reassurance that familiarity breeds. Fingers cradled the phone, pressing the familiar numbers for home, but the dial tone beeped out. The phone lines were down. We were going to die without saying goodbye.

The streets were like something out of a horror movie, families huddled on the sidewalk, clinging to each other as shouts of desperate prayers tore through the air. Looters and rioters run amok, the broken glass crunching under their feet as they took everything they didn’t need and more. The distant sound of sirens were the only reminder of law among this anarchy. I suppose the emergency services only kept operating to maintain some semblance of control, some assuredly that maybe everything would turn out okay. I felt I needed to tip my hat to those who were fighting the lost cause, working to help society maintain its sanity when they could be spending those last days hugging their children and kissing their wife.

The rogue planet hung low in the sky, an eerie image from some other galaxy as it silhouetted the skyline. I could still remember the day when it first appeared, nothing more than a tiny shadow beside the sun. Scientists had been so intrigued by the discovery, until calculations had shown that it projected orbit was the cause of the end. Life had continued as normal, slowly circling down into insanity, and I found myself drifting more often into the past, imaging his hand in mine.

Blue was a colour that was non-existent in this dying world. The oceans and the skies were all orange and red, and sometimes I found it hard to remember the exact shade of his eyes, but I remember they were the most beautiful blue, always full of life and laughter. He was everything this world was now lacking.

My fingers curled around the wrought iron gate, oak leaves catching in the wind and drifting down to earth as I stepped onto the weed worn path. I knew the way so clearly, each step a moment in time, each stone a memory that I had buried in denial. I swear I could hear his laughter in the wind, and feels his touch on my face.

My knees buckled and I dropped to the ground, trembling fingers pulling at the overgrown grass to reveal the gravestone.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry I haven’t visited…” I hear my voice whisper, begging for the forgiveness I know I already have. He would understand how painful it was, how I would prefer to live my life believing he could always come home without the constant reminder that he was gone.

The silver ring glistened against the dirt and my voice came out in a low hum. I leaned back, hand curling at the grave, imagining his hand in mine as I started to sing. It was a slow and sad lullaby, and I curled into myself as the tears slipped down my face.

The earth was trembling, and distant cries crowed for attention but I ignored them for my song. I sang for my broken heart, that had never healed, I sang from him for being torn away from me to soon, I sang for this world for the fear that had caught our hearts. I sang with forlorn acceptance that it was over as I closed my eyes and imagined Niall here, laughing and kissing my cheeks, telling me that he wasn’t afraid while he nestled deeper into the protection of my arms.

The world was cast in an orange haze, and I laid there on his grave, imagining him in my arms cause I didn’t want to die alone…

And then the world was no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally posted separately on this account, but I decided to bring it into the collection due to its short length.


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